


(stay in love) by choice

by thisissirius



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: M/M, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-13 00:29:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9097534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisissirius/pseuds/thisissirius
Summary: “I can’t see you behind the bar,” Chas admits with a smile. “Not your scene.”

or a story of robert and aaron wanting to buy the woolpack told by five people who witness moments they usually hide behind closed doors.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [finkpishnets](https://archiveofourown.org/users/finkpishnets/gifts).



> written in response to two of your wishes; for people to witness those loving moments between robert and aaron, and how interesting it would be to see robert and aaron owning the woolpack! i have so many ideas for this, but i had to stop myself going crazy! i hope it's what you wanted <3

It’s Robert that brings up the idea.

They’re coming to an agreement; they both love Aaron, and they’ll make the best of that. She’s not going to pretend it’s been easy; it’s taken a long time to look at Robert and not see everything he’s done. Still, she’s no saint and she knows what it’s like to have to battle your own demons before you can be the person you want to be.

“Chas?” Robert’s in the kitchen, leaning against the sink, cup of tea in hand.

There’s a million things that need doing; the pub won’t decorate itself, and Charity’s off in a couple of days, but the thought of five minutes to relax sounds great, even if that means giving those five minutes to Robert. The last two years of having Robert for a (begrudgingly great) son-in-law has to have earned him the right to be heard. She takes a seat at the kitchen table, arms folded. “Spill.”

Robert’s been preoccupied lately, a million miles away even when he’s sat at the same table. Aaron’s noticed, made a comment once or twice when he comes over. There’s a reason Robert’s in her kitchen making tea when he has a perfectly good kettle at the Mill. Robert sits down next to her, staring into his mug, brows creased. “Has Charity mentioned who she’s selling her share of the pub too? Do you know who you want yours to go to?”

Chas is surprised. “Thinking of buying it yourself, are you?”

Robert says nothing for a moment, and it’s all the confirmation that Chas needs. She waits for Robert to compose himself.

There’s a long silence before Robert sits back. “The Mill has been a good investment for Liv, and it’s been good for us.” Chas frowns, but waits. “Aaron doesn’t want to live there.”

“Robert,” Chas says, concerned. “Aaron _loves_ —”

“ _Chas_ ,” Robert interrupts. He gives her a wry look. “Living in a house funded by Gordon’s money, no matter what he might say, is eating him up. I know him well enough to be able to tell. It’s taken years for it to really start to get to him and will continue to do so. I don’t want that for him.”

Chas sigh. Robert’s right and she can’t deny it, not when she’s had the thought herself. “So buy him out yourself.”

Robert snorts. “I don’t particularly want to live there any more than Aaron does. It’s always been hard.”

“So why let him buy it? Why move in?”

“Liv,” Robert says, like it’s natural. “She doesn’t have history there, and it’s a good thing for her. She’s got something stable now, a place for her money to grow.”

Chas knows he’s put a lot of thought into it. “But?”

There’s another long silence. “I want her to be happy.”

It’s an admission, Chas knows. Robert and Liv haven’t always had the best relationship. They’ve fought like cats and dogs, still do at times, but she can see that Robert genuinely cares about her. Never once does he use the word ‘we’ and not include Liv. It’s surprised her, Liv, and probably himself too.

“What do you think will make her happy?”

“A home,” Robert says, running a thumb over the rim of his mug. “But she’s going to Uni in a couple of months and I want her to come home to a place that’s ours, you know? Not — not a place that we’re just pretending to be happy in.”

Chas isn’t stupid. “You think the pub is a good compromise?”

“I wanted to ask.” Robert finally looks her in the eye. “I know you’re trying to find a buyer, Aaron told me. You want Charity’s share to go to someone who’ll care about it as much as you do.”

There’s a smile on Robert’s face, but he looks slightly distant. Thinking of Liv and Aaron, Chas guesses. “What about you?”

“Me?” Robert says, mouth quirking up. “Aaron and I buy you out.”

Chas’ immediate reaction is to say no. She’s owned the Woolpack a long time, but she takes a moment. She can’t deny that she wants to cut back, that she’s been silently feeling out buyers for both shares of the pub. Paddy and her are in a good place and she’s determined to make a go of it this time. “I’m not sure I want to give it up completely.”

To her surprise, Robert doesn’t push. “I know. I’m not saying it’s not going to be a hard decision. I just want you to know that the option is there. Even if we only buy Charity’s half. You could cut back and I put in the work.”

“I can’t see you behind the bar,” Chas admits with a smile. “Not your scene.”

Robert grins. “I never thought I would either. I’m…” Robert chooses the word carefully. “Learning. I thought it was the big house and everything that went with it. Turns out it’s Aaron, and Aaron’s little sister.”

Definitely not the Robert Sugden she’s used to, but someone she’s happy to get to know. “I’ll think about it.”

“That’s all I ask,” Robert says.

In the end she agrees. She’s pregnant, expecting Paddy’s child, and while Aaron’s excited and even Robert’s shown an interest in his in-law to be, Chas isn’t sure she wants to juggle owning a pub alongside raising a child. Thankfully, with Robert’s offer on the table, she has a compromise.

Paddy’s not happy with the decision. Despite the recent thawing between him and Robert, the resentment goes deep and it’s the best she can hope for. Chas knows even if he never comes around to the idea of Robert being a permanent fixture in Aaron’s life, it’s ultimately her decision.

She sits Aaron and Robert down to explain her reasons.

“Robert said you were interested in buying the pub?”

Aaron looks at Robert, a quizzical expression on his face. Chas shouldn’t be surprised, and gives Robert a sceptical look.

Robert runs a hand over his forehead. “I would have told him. I wanted to be sure of the decision before I said anything.”

“I thought you were happy living in the Mill?” Aaron looks worried now, like there’s something huge he’s missed.

Robert gives Chas a prompting look, but she’s just sat down. She’s not going anywhere now. Sighing, Robert splays his hands on the table, a blush on his cheeks. “Neither of us wants to live in that place, not really. I thought — well, Liv’s going to Uni and she can rent it out, increase her profits maybe. She’ll make money and we could — I want you to be happy Aaron, and you were happy here.”

Aaron’s eyes soften in a way that Chas has never seen before. He curls his fingers around Robert’s and squeezes gently. “I told you I was happy.”

“But you’re not,” Robert says, mouth downturned. Chas is surprised by the utter _love_ on his face, the care and consideration. Her chest feels tight as Robert stares at Aaron. “You don’t like living there. I want to be somewhere we can call home, Aaron.”

“Robert.” Aaron’s voice is as soft as the look in his eyes and he leans in, kisses Robert on the corner of his mouth. “I love you.”

“Yeah,” Robert agrees, smiling. “I love you too.”

Chas thinks she should probably leave, but as soon as it comes, the moment’s broken and they’re back to business. It takes her a moment to follow the conversation, as stunned by their display of affection and how deep it runs, as she is by their complete synchronicity in what they want.

 

 

 

“Are you sure about this?” Vic says, surveying the boxes they’ve spent all day packing. “You’ve only lived here a couple of years.”

Robert shrugs from his position on the sofa, determined to shove all of the books into one box. Vic’s sure it’s going to break either on the way to the car, or out of it the other end. “Pub’s bought and paid for, Vic. Pretty sure it’s too late to back out now.”

“You better not,” Chas chimes in as she passes with the bedspreads. The short journey is a blessing for carrying things to and fro, Vic supposes. “I’ve got plans for that money.”

Vic waits until she and Robert are alone before approaching the subject again. The living room is clear of everything, including the pictures and knick knacks that made it a home. She’s a little sad, happy for Robert that he’d found permanent after so long, but sad that it feels a little like he’s taking a step back. “Seriously. This is what you want?”

Robert’s expression is complicated. “Living here wasn’t good for Aaron. He said it was fine, that he just wanted me to happy, but he wasn’t.”

“You’re only moving because you want to make Aaron happy,” Vic points out. It still surprises her sometimes, how much Robert concedes to Aaron, how much he’ll give up if it makes Aaron smile. It’s startling, the brother she thought she knew, changing and growing. It’s a good change; she’s loved Robert unconditionally, even when she’s wished she didn’t quite so much, but this Robert, the one who’s moving because Aaron doesn’t smile so much anymore, she’s proud of him.

“Yeah,” Robert agrees, but he’s smiling. There’s one more box on the floor, _Robert_ _’s Nerd Shit_ written on the side in Aaron’s scrawl. Robert cradles it with his feet, staring down at the closed lid. “I love him, Vic.”

It’s as much an answer as it’s not. Vic’s moved places for Adam, though, helped him with Moira and the farm when he didn’t know what else to do. She knows what it is to love someone and want the best for them. “You’re a good man, Robert.”

This time the expression is much easier to read; he doesn’t believe her, mouth quirking up in that smile she knows as his _not quite truthful_ one. “Sure.”

“He won’t believe you,” Aaron says, leaning against the doorway. “Never has when I tell him.”

Robert rolls his eyes, but there’s more happiness on his face, the tenseness to his shoulders disappearing as Aaron walks towards them. “Whatever. I believe you.”

“Liar,” Aaron says fondly, resting one hand on Robert’s shoulder, the other in his hair. It surprises Vic, unused to seeing Aaron so affectionate. It’s a good look on him, though, the soft eyes, the even softer smile. He leans in, kisses Robert like she’s not in the room. It’s easy and normal and she’s never felt happier for Robert — for Aaron — than she does in that moment.

“Right,” she says, climbing to her feet. “Lets get this last box to the van.”

“Or we could leave it here,” Aaron grins, ducking away from Robert’s instinctive tickle.

Robert swipes the box from the floor. “I’d rather leave _you_ here.”

It’s a lie, and both she and Aaron know it. Vic watches Aaron as his eyes linger on Robert’s back, the slight quirk of his lips, the blush to his cheeks. She’s happy for both of them, content that Robert’s got someone who loves him as much as Aaron obviously does. Not taking a step back, then, but a giant leap forward. “Thanks.”

Aaron frowns. “What for?”

“Making him smile like that.” It’s soppy and soft and she knows it, can see it in the brief hesitation on Aaron’s face. “I mean it. Didn’t think he’d ever be this happy.

“Yeah well,” Aaron says, obviously at a loss. He looks uncomfortable again, so Vic gives him an out.

“Come on,” she threads an arm through his. “Let’s get you back to the pub.”

 

 

 

There are some things, Adam reasons with himself, that a guy just shouldn’t know about his best mate.

Objectively, he knows that Robert and Aaron share a bed. Objectively, he knows they get a little bit heavier than over the duvet action. It’s just not something he wants to think about for too long. Or at all, even if Aaron’s a lot happier lately. He can get behind that, just not when they’re shoving their _happiness_ in his face.

“Mate,” Adam says, walking in on them for the third time in one week. “You have a whole house to _yourself_.”

Aaron, who still doesn’t like talking about this shit, mutters under his breath and shoulders the door shut. “Maybe if you _knock_.”

“I work here,” Adam says, smothering a laugh. He can hear Robert say something, low and unkind probably, and Aaron’s answering, “If you could have waited till we got _home_ —”

Adam leans against the door, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He should probably start scrapping shit around the yard, but it’s been a lazy couple of days, and it’s Aaron’s last shift. It feels weird, having to shop around for someone to help out, but Aaron’s cutting back. It irks Adam that it’s come out of the blue, but he’s done the same with the farm, so he’ll get over it.

There’s a banging from the portacabin and Adam rolls his eyes. He’s not sticking around for this. “When you decide you actually wanna work your last shift, come find me.”

It’s a quarter of an hour later that Aaron and Robert finally come out; it’s obvious what they’ve been doing, and Adam’s seriously going to get the portacabin deep cleaned before he steps foot in it again, but it’s not that that makes him keep watching.

“— get to the pub,” Robert’s saying, shrugging into the leather jacket he’s taken to wearing more often lately. Adam snorts. It’s obvious it’s for Aaron’s benefit, but he’s done less to get to Vic, so he’s not saying nothing. “Your mum’s gonna talk me through everything.”

“Look at you,” Aaron says. He’s standing close to Robert, and Adam’s seen them in the pub in the evenings, loose after a couple of drinks, but he’s pretty sure he’s not seen _this_ before. Robert threads a hand into Aaron’s hair, gel-free for a change, and brings him in for a kiss. Adam makes a face, wants to look away because this isn’t his business, but the look on Robert’s face brings him up short.

He’s not Robert’s biggest fan, the guy is a pain in the ass at the best of times, and he doesn’t know how anyone can stand to live with him permanently. He knows the guy loves Aaron, though, and wants to protect him more than Adam does. Even with all of that, he’s only seen that particular look on Robert’s face once before.

Back when Aaron and Robert’d been in the car crash, there was a moment when Aaron was awake and they were all crowded in his little hospital room, that Robert looked at Aaron like that; like he’d forgotten how to live for a second and then there was Aaron.

It’s stupid and Adam can’t believe he’s even thinking it, but that’s what it is. Robert looks at Aaron like that, and yeah, Adam hates him sometimes, but can’t fault the guy for loving Aaron the way he does.

 

 

 

“I’m only going away for the weekend,” Liv chastises, eyes narrowed.

It’s taken a while to get used to being back in the pub, but her room’s decorated back to how she likes it, the pictures around the pub have changed to those hanging in the Mill, and everything around them is painted with _Robert and Liv and Aaron_ instead of a mess of Dingles, Sugdens and the rest of the village. It feels like _home_ , not that Liv wants to make Robert’s head any bigger enough to tell him.

She’s not even going to be living there for much longer, the accommodation at Uni already booked and paid for, but it’ll be nice to come home to. Chas and Paddy have the Mill, but it’s big enough that Liv can still call it home at the same time they do.

It’s weird to see Rob behind the bar, though he assures her he’s worked there before, but he takes to it like he does everything else. He’s smug and insufferable when he works his first shift and manages to shut down Chrissie all in the same few hours, worse still when he and Aaron pull a shift together, working around each other with an ease that probably surprises them as much as it does her.

Their fights, while legendary enough already, have taken on a razor quality when they fight now, and Liv’s pretty sure the only reason Aaron lets Rob go on so many Nerd dates with Finn is so that he doesn’t have to look at Rob’s face too much. Liv can empathise with that.

Rob smirks at her from his position leaning against the sink. “Shame it can’t be longer.”

“Don’t pretend you won’t miss me,” Liv says, leaning around him to dump her bowl in the sink. Just to spite him, she moves away without washing up, knowing he’ll do it if she leaves it long enough. Rob’s mouth downturns, but he doesn’t say anything; just more proof that he’s going to miss having her around to annoy him. “I know you’ll be calling me by Saturday afternoon.”

“Sunday,” Rob counters, snorting. “And it’ll be Aaron. He misses you more than I do.”

Liv raises her eyebrows, but doesn’t call him on it. Aaron does miss her, but he’s usually low key about it. Rob‘s more obvious in his texts and calls; the first time she went away to visit her mum for the week, she got “have you hidden the remote” and “it’s been two days and we’ve only just realised you’re gone so feel free to stay longer,” texts. Liv worried to start with, until the frequency and absurdity of the texts just meant Rob was missing her and wanted to talk to her. She doesn’t know if he’s aware he’s so annoying with it, but she’s not gonna mention it. It’s nice to know he cares, even if she wishes Aaron would steal his phone occasionally.

“You telling lies again?” Aaron finally chimes in from the sofa. He’s had his nose buried in one of his stupid boy magazines. Liv grabs her backpack from beside him, shoving her sketchbook inside.

“I don’t tell lies,” Rob lies, and holds up his hands at the twin scathing looks he gets in return. “Fine, but I’m not this time.”

Liv checks her watch, late for the bus for the third time in as many days, and throws Rob a pleading look. She knows he’s got a meeting in Leeds in an hour and college is on the way. “Drop me off? You’ll still make your meeting.”

Rob pretends to hesitate, making a face as he tips what’s left of his tea down the drain. It’s one of his little quirks; never quite finishing the whole tea, just like his litte _quirk_ of pretending to be put out whenever Liv asks for something. He’ll give in, eventually, if she asks the right way.

“You won’t have to pull any pints this morning,” she says, smiling sweetly.

“As if he would anyway,” Aaron replies, darkly, but there’s no hint of malice on his face. Liv doesn’t know who they’re fooling. She’s surprised that with all their attempts to make life easier for the other they don’t coast through life like Teflon.

Rob passes the sofa on his way to grab his keys and Liv knows there’s gross stuff coming, so she pulls on her backpack and retreats to the front door. She peers around it in time to see Rob lean down and kiss Aaron’s head. “I promise I’ll take an extra shift tonight.”

Aaron says nothing, but he tugs Rob down for a proper kiss. Liv makes a face, but she can’t deny there’s an ease with which they do that now that’s never been there before. Aaron’s not the best with affection, she’s not either, but with Rob it’s different. He can’t help himself, sometimes, and she’s fairly sure one day she’ll walk into the pub and see them snogging behind the bar.

“ _Rob_ ,” she whines, just to be the pest she knows he thinks her sometimes. “I’ll be late.”

“Not like you aren’t usually,” Rob shoots back, leaning in for another kiss.

“Seriously, eat his face later. College now.”

Aaron snorts, pushing Rob away. “Take her, get to your meeting. Then come back and take over the bar.”

“Yes sir,” Rob says, and gross, Liv really doesn’t need to stick around for _that_ look on Aaron’s face.

She pulls open the door and yells, “I’ve got your keys!” back at Rob. It’s great they’re so happy, but they don’t have to keep making it so obvious.

 

 

 

Finn’s not a jealous guy.

He’s been with Kasim long enough now that he’s comfortable, that seeing Kasim talking to someone else doesn’t make his heart skip, or his blood run cold, but thankfully it’s Robert that he’s talking to, both of them leaning on the bar. It’s still weird to think of Robert serving drinks in the Woolpack, weirder still that he’s Finn’s best mate (???), and married to a guy Finn once slept with. Weird, but also kinda awesome.

“Guess we’re not catching that movie later,” he says, making sure to show Robert exactly how disappointed he is. Robert just raises his eyebrows. It’s not like they don’t cancel their plans all the time, either because Rob and Aaron are doing a _thing_ (seriously, Finn doesn’t want to know) or because Finn and Kasim are doing a thing (actual thing, not _sex_ thing.)

Kasim greets him with the usual kiss, something Robert steps effortlessly away from when someone comes up requesting drinks. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Finn says, relaxing. There’s something about Kasim that still makes him feel lucky even now. He lets Kasim’s arm fall around his shoulders as he watches Robert serve the drinks. He’s not full on bartender with a tea towel over his shoulder or anything. He’s the kind of bartender that Chas is; his affable personality ( _smug personality, Finn,_ Aaron’ll say, though he’ll soften it with a kiss – to Robert, not Finn) and ability to sweet talk anything walking on two legs make him the ideal guy to serve behind the bar. He’s also surprisingly quick with getting the drinks to the punters, and Finn’s only heard him complaining once about having to show his face in public so much.

When Robert finally returns, smirk in place, he shrugs. “Sure you’ll find something else to do without me.”

Finn shrugs. “Nothing you can’t do with your husband.”

Robert’s expression shifts to one of exasperation as he gestures out the back, but there’s enough fondness there that whatever he’s gonna say next will be about Aaron. “Aaron’s sick. Complaining more than Liv when she has to do the washing up. I have to take his shift and mine.”

It’s like the Twilight Zone, Finn reasons with himself. Robert Sugden, the guy everyone spent months telling him he should stay away from (with the exception of Vic and weirdly, Aaron), is his best mate. The guy who’ll spend hours talking about Star Wars, Game of Thrones, anime and whatever nerd shit has taken his fancy, will also spend hours talking about Aaron, Liv and the dog that’s taken up residence in the back room.

“You pretend to hate it,” Finn says, accepting the drink Robert slides across the bar. “Still doesn’t stop you serving behind the bar instead of making Chas do it.”

Robert looks horrified at the thought. “She’s heavily pregnant and craving stuff I’ve never even heard of. I know better than to ask a favour right now.”

It’s a stupid thing to say because Finn _knows_ how much Robert loves this new job. Not that he doesn’t still have his stake in Home James, but he’s cut back his hours there, just like Aaron has with the Scrapyard. They’re making this new life work for them, and Finn’s proud enough he could cry, but that’d be weird.

“I can imagine he’s grumpy when he’s sick,” Kasim adds, throwing a thoughtful look up to the ceiling.

Robert snorts, but Finn’s not fooled. There’s this look he gets, and Finn’s been around him long enough to know what it means. It’s not subtle, hits you like a ton of bricks if you’re not expecting it, but it’s his _Aaron_ face. If he’s thinking about Aaron (all the time), talking about Aaron (half the time) or just generally in Aaron’s vicinity (more often than Finn would like when they’re trying to watch shit and Robert’s paying more attention to Aaron than the show), that look is sure to be there.

So when he sees it cross Robert’s face in that second between Robert’s eyes flicking upward to follow Kasim’s, and the next customer that steps up to the bar, Finn can’t help saying, “I could always cover for ya,” when Robert comes back.

“Uh, no offence, Finn, but you’ve never worked behind here before.”

“It’s pulling pints,” Finn says, desperately trying not to look at Kasim, who’s probably gonna curse up a storm as soon as Robert’s back is turned. “How hard can it be?”

Robert looks sceptical, and half a step away from refusing.

Kasim, effortless as usual, shrugs. “I’ve worked in a pub before. I could help.”

Robert’s eyes slide from Finn to Kasim and then back. He looks torn, but Finn doesn’t know who he’s fooling; he wants to be with Aaron, that much is obvious.

Finn sat by Kasim’s bed until he woke up, became his boyfriend, and now they’re talking about moving in together. That’s nothing compared to Robert and Aaron, how disgusting they are when they want to be, so Finn slaps the bar.

“Say yes. Then you can do whatever nursemaid stuff I don’t care to hear about that you need to do to make your husband less grumpy.”

Robert looks simultaneously put out and interested in that suggestion, so Finn herds him away from the bar.

“Leave your pub in the capable of hands of me and Kasim. Go make out with Aaron or whatever.”

The fact that Robert doesn’t need any more prompting — that he doesn’t even double check to make sure Kasim does actually have bar experience and isn’t lying to get him away from the bar — is proof enough that he’s been worried about Aaron this entire time.

The upshot is that Finn gets to work behind the bar, earn a little cash, and hold something over Robert’s head the next time he tries to convince Finn that the Force Awakens was better than Rogue One.

As if.


End file.
